Page 17 of Murder & Mayhem
A hand on my shoulder had me jumping out of my skin.
“Fuck, sorry. I’m so sorry. You weren’t answering.” Dominic looked so guilty, like he was the one responsible for smashing me through the wall, not pirate pervert.
“It’s fine. You don’t gotta apologize for touching my fucking shoulder. I’m the one who’s a mess.” I didn’t want to talk about it, though, and sure as fuck didn’t want to explain to this god of a man why I was freaking out. “You said someone was here? Let’s go.”
Dominic watched me for so long that I started to fidget. What the hell was his deal? Why was he acting like he cared so damn much? Finally, he tore away his gaze. “Yeah, he’s in the bedroom. This way.” Like I didn’t know where the bedroom was.
Dominic headed into the hallway and right past the closet.The door was broken, the handle kicked in and lying on the floor, and the wood was cracked where it used to be. I could see right in and Bailey wasn’t there.
Who had broken the door? Bailey or Dominic or some other poor kid that had been locked in there? I’d always wished I had the courage to kick the door down, but just staying awake and breathing had taken all my energy and . . .
Dominic had kept walking, and I wrenched my gaze away and followed on wooden feet to the bedroom.
Dominic strolled through the open bedroom door like he owned the place. I stood in the doorway trying not to throw up. This room was different. The bed was gone and now there was only a filthy mattress on the floor in its place. The cage was still there though. Thank fuck, no one was in it.
A guy I didn’t recognize was lying on the mattress, passed out and in nothing but dirty tighty-whities. He was kinda young, maybe around Dominic’s age, which was weird because most of the guys Joey had run with were in their forties and fifties like him, sometimes older. This guy was maybe 30, skinny as a rail with long, dirty brown hair matted to his gaunt face. He didn’t move at all when we came in. There was still a fucking needle in his arm.
“Is he alive?” I asked quietly, even though it probably wouldn’t matter.
“Yeah,” Dominic answered. “Barely, but I got something to help with that.”
He dropped his backpack on the carpet and squatted next to it, digging through before he pulled out a needle and a little vial. It was fascinating watching Dominic work. He was all precision and confidence. No extra movements, no shaky hands or double-checking to make sure he didn’t fuck up.
This wasn’t the first time I’d watched someone prepare a needle, but it was so different than anything I’d ever seen.This wasn’t a junkie desperately trying to get a fix. He was a professional. I swore I could watch this guy all day and never get tired.
He stood, glancing at me from the corner of his eye. “Ari just told me Gid’s at Byrne’s house and is almost finished. No problems there. He also wants to know if you recognize this guy. There’s no identification.”
I had nothing but gratitude for the mysterious Ari, whom I had never heard or seen but somehow felt connected to already. Maybe because of how much he helped, or maybe because of the easy familiarity when Dominic talked to him.
“I’ve never seen him before. He’s too young.”
He grimaced. “I guess we’ll find out the hard way.”
Dominic went over to the guy, ripped the needle out of his arm carelessly, and replaced it with the one in his hand. “This might get ugly,” he warned me, and then the guy let out a bloodcurdling, brutal scream as his body shook relentlessly.
CHAPTER 7
DOMINIC
Ialways enjoyed using this particular cocktail to wake up my targets. It was like a bolt of electricity to their bodies, and the shock, especially when they’d been knocked out from pain or drugs, always caused them to spasm and scream. Gid was usually the one who preferred screaming, but this was the one time I liked it.
This guy was no exception. If I thought anyone gave a fuck in this neighborhood, I might’ve been worried because the fucker was loud. But if anyone did hear, they’d mind their own business, like they apparently had while this house was used for unspeakable things I could only imagine.
I wasn’t blind. I could see how Jamie was reacting, how he seemed to keep focusing on certain things like the hole in the wall, that fucking closet, and the cage. This guy was lucky Jamie had said he’d never seen him before, otherwise I’d probably have torn him limb from limb, information be damned.
Still, I was sure he was far from innocent, and I would get enjoyment out of whatever I could get from him.
The guy finally stopped spasming and bolted to a sitting position, his dull brown eyes wide and his body twitching as he tried to figure out what the fuck was happening.
“Hello,” I said calmly, despite the fury thrumming under my skin.
“H-h-hello.” His voice was dry and raspy. “Do you got any water or anything?”
I blinked at him but didn’t answer.
After a minute, he cleared his throat again and looked around, clearly confused as fuck. His pupils dilated some when he really noticed me, and I thought he then realized this wasn’t one of his buddies waking him up after a bender. He leaned away from me, but I didn’t think he even realized he was doing it. Just prey instinctively trying to get away from its predator.
His eyes landed on Jamie, but there was no recognition there. Then again, he might’ve been well beyond that by this point. “What’s going on? Who are you?”
